


You Have Me

by HomeForImaginaryFriends



Series: IwaDai Week 2017 [2]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Abuse, Alternate Universe - Magic, M/M, Magic-Users, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-16
Updated: 2017-08-16
Packaged: 2018-12-16 00:34:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,069
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11817513
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HomeForImaginaryFriends/pseuds/HomeForImaginaryFriends
Summary: Iwaizumi was having a typical day, travelling and watching over his ward when he came across a beaten man (Daichi).





	You Have Me

 

Hajime knocked on the familiar door, waited a full moment before opening it and entering before stopping short.  A broad muscular back greeted him, covered in long silvery scars that interrupted the smooth tan skin.  The owner of the back turned and gave Hajime a helpless look as he held up the long edges of a tunic.

 

“Need a hand?”  Hajime asked, trying to get his pounding heart and fluttering stomach under control.  He was a grown man, a hardened soldier and trusted royal guard to a prince, he shouldn’t feel this breathless over one person.

 

But Daichi had been Hajime’s weak spot since their first meeting, which hadn’t been a pleasant one.

  
  
  
  


**One Year Prior…**

  
  
  
  


Hajime looked around the busy market place while keeping an eye on his ward.  He briefly let himself wonder if they would ever be able to travel without being constantly stopped but it was a hopeless dream.  His ward was royalty, even if he was the fourth son of a King in another land.  He was, objectively speaking, quite beautiful.  The land they were in most of the locals tended to have pitch-black skin, some with undertones of blue or red.  Their hair and eye color was commonly dark, and they stood a full head shorter than Hajime, who wasn’t overtly tall to begin with.

 

The young prince was fair skinned with light hair, and he was quite tall even amongst his own people.  Even in a bustling market he drew a good amount of attention.  Though Hajime had convinced his ward to dress a bit more commonly, he still had his families crest sewn onto his robes.

 

“Iwaizumi.”  His ward said in a singsong voice that always spelled trouble.  Mostly for Hajime, who was the prince's royal guard.  How that happened was a long tale involving giant bugs, an angry overlord, and a blood oath between two seven year old boys.

 

“No.”  Hajime said, though he knew his protests fell on deaf ears.  No wasn’t in Prince Oikawa Tooru’s vocabulary.  He might be the fourth son, but he had been horrendously spoiled his entire life.

 

“They said it was the most entertaining thing here, we must see it!”  Tooru ushered Hajime to something that most likely wasn’t all that entertaining by simply waving his hands at Hajime’s back.

 

“I thought you said you didn’t speak the language.”  Hajime nudged a would-be thief away from the princes coin bag.  How someone could be so oblivious while being one of the most observant people Hajime knew was beyond him.

 

“We found some common words,” Tooru shrugged, smiling and waving to a group of merchants staring at him.  Hajime gave them a hard look for good measure.  Whether they wanted the prince’s money or body mattered very little to Hajime, it was his job to make sure they didn’t get close to either.

 

“You have no idea where we are headed, do you?”  Hajime asked, trying to hide his amusement.  It wouldn’t do to encourage the prince’s poor behavior.

 

If Hajime hadn’t trained for over half his life to protect the prince then he would feel hesitant about strolling through these back alleys.  Honestly it wasn’t even the most worrisome place he’d ever been.  Wouldn’t even crack the top twenty.  It was pretty nicely lit, the streets were well taken care of, and no one was trailing behind them.

 

“Oh no.”  Tooru said with clear disappointment after they rounded a corner and came across the entertainment.

 

“This is what you wanted, your highness.”  Hajime said, taking great joy in the sprawling amphitheatre, filling up quickly with people.  A fight was clearly in the making, which was Tooru’s least favorite form of local entertainment, which of course made it Hajime’s favorite.

 

Hajime had made a good amount of coin joining local tournaments.  Tooru hated it, which meant Hajime did it as often as his body allowed.

 

“I’m not healing you if you get yourself beaten up.”  Tooru grumbled after they had paid the entrance fee.  “Think of what my father would say.”

 

“He’d only be angry if I lost.”  Hajime grinned as he thought of the elder Oikawa.  He was a fair and just ruler, who crushed anyone that opposed him.  Tooru was much more like his courtesan mother.  Everyone was too busy staring at their pretty faces and dazzling smiles to realize how they were being manipulated, set up right where they wanted them.

 

“You’re such a brute,” Tooru complained as the fighters were introduced in a foreign tongue.  The fighters came in all shapes and sizes, judging from the roar of the crowd there was heavy favoritism on the behemoth of a man with long silver hair.

 

“Could you win against him?”  Tooru’s tone was bored but his eyes were calculated.

 

“As long as he didn’t get a lucky hit in, then yes.”  The fighter hit like a battering ram but he was slow and untrained.  He managed to survive by being the biggest and strongest but most of the other fighters were amateurs.  Hajime was highly skilled, but even the most skilled fighters could be taken down by someone with less skill if they became over confident in their abilities.  It had been a lesson drilled into Hajime repeatedly.  Hajime was confident in his ability to protect the prince and himself, but he wouldn’t be challenging the large man anytime soon.

 

There were five rounds to determine who would fight the large man, the reigning champion Tooru explained after listening closely to everyone around them, that the fighters were backed by wealthy benefactors.  They sat high above the crowd, richly dressed with servants fluttering around them.  Hajime suspected not a single one had even picked up a weapon in their life.

 

Tooru had been practically raised with a weapon in his hand.  He preferred to rely on his magic, but he was a skilled fighter.  The King, Hajime’s King, would never allow any of his children to become fat layabouts, forcing others to fight for them.  Hajime protected the prince as the chosen Royal Guard, but that didn’t meant that Tooru hadn’t saved Hajime several times throughout their travels.

 

Because Tooru was the fourth son he was allowed a lot of liberty in choosing his own lifestyle.  He wasn’t expected to take over the crown, unless something tragic happened to not only his war trained and heavily magicked father, but his three elder brothers also.  Tooru had a gift for languages, something he spent endless hours training and practicing, and his travels were deemed for “diplomacy”.  Hajime knew it was just a paper thin excuse to allow the prince to do whatever he pleased, but it worked.

 

“What’s wrong?”  Hajime asked as Tooru frowned, face scrunched up in a rather ugly look.

 

“That word they keep using.”  Tooru sat back and closed his eyes, mentally going through his extensive vocabulary that expanded several languages.  “It’s different than what they call the other fighters.  Not servant but something close.”

 

“ _ Slave _ .”  A woman from behind them spoke in the trader's tongue, a language shared by a large portion of the world.  It was rudimentary at best but it worked well enough, and was a language even Hajime spoke.

 

“Slave?”  Hajime questioned, turning back to the ring where a man was walking out.  The woman said several things in a foreign tongue, then switched to another, then finally a third until Tooru found a common one they both spoke.  Hajime couldn’t help but stare at the young man standing in the ring.  He was probably about as tall as Hajime with muscles gained from hard work and not much food.  Unlike the other heavily armored fighters, this man wore nothing but a pair of dirty trousers.  He held a beat up sword in his right hand, pointed toward the ground.  His face was emotionless as the crowd jeered at him, clear animosity coming off of them even if Hajime couldn’t understand the language.

 

The  _ slave _ , Hajime couldn’t even think the word without disgust, was fighting the champion.  He looked like a child compared to the large man, who would have towered even over Tooru.  Despite the jeering crowd the man showed no emotion, his eyes fixed on something in the distance.

 

“Tooru.”  Hajime said in slight desperation because he knew the energy of the crowd, knew what it meant when a fight went from first blood to death.

 

“There wasn’t enough for the crowd, they want blood.”  Tooru looked like he couldn’t decide if he was uncomfortable or angry or just resigned.

 

Tooru and Hajime travelled to far off land, to those with customs and traditions completely different than the ones they had known.  They had stayed in small huts with a village population of under a hundred to large bustling cities that sprawled out in every direction.  They were well versed in abiding by the rules of each land they visited, even if they disliked or sometimes hated them.  It wasn’t the first time they had come across a land that had slaves, but it was difficult each and every time.

 

“They want him to die.”  Hajime said with disgust as the large man screamed at the crowd, riling them up until they started to chant.  Hajime didn’t know what they were saying but he knew it wasn’t good.

 

“There’s nothing we can do, he is considered-” Tooru pulled a face, letting his usual cheery mask fall for a split second to reveal something cold and a little ugly beneath.  “Garbage, less than that.  He is nothing.”  Hajime could not disagree more.  He was a man, flesh and blood right in front of them bearing the hatred around him with more dignity than Hajime had ever seen any one person have.

 

The big man moved suddenly, swinging his mace around.  The smaller one stepped out of the way.  His movements didn’t flow like water, they were a bit stilted but he wasted no extra energy.  Everything he did was timed perfectly.  He obviously had training, judging from the amount of scars on his exposed torso and arms he was a regular fighter or had learned from actual battle.

 

Hajime wanted to scream, he wanted to beat every single spectator and the benefactors to a bloody pulp, but mostly he wanted to jump into the ring and stop the fight.  He knew he couldn’t do any of those because his one job was to protect the prince, and protecting him meant they could only watch from the sidelines and do nothing.

 

The giant was quickly turning red, from overexerting himself but also from humiliation.  He hadn’t landed a single hit on the smaller man, hadn’t come close.

 

Hajime was beginning to have hope until Tooru exhaled sharply next to him and suddenly the smaller man was down, someone had tossed a net around his legs to trip him up.  The giant gave a roar of victory, hefting his huge mace over his head and bringing it down so hard Hajime could feel the reverberation in his seat.

 

The giant hunched over, completely still and Hajime wanted to close his eyes but refused to dishonor the smaller man anymore than he already had been.  He hadn’t been the one to put the man in this fight or the one carrying the mace, but he had stood by and done nothing for him.  He played a part in his death and he wouldn’t look away from that.

 

The giant fell to the side and it took Hajime a moment to realize there was a sword through his throat.  Hajime stood with the rest of the stunned crowd, saw the mace buried in the sand a mere hand-widths away from the man's head.

 

The crowd began to yell in earnest, angry screams as the man pushed himself to his feet, stepping out of the net that should have been his death calmly.  Something crashed against the side of his face, a mug or tankard, spilling a dark substance down him and breaking the skin.  The man stumbled to the side, just a quick two step before he regained his footing and more things were hurled at him.  He didn’t try to block or duck anything, just endured it with that same far off look he had when he entered the arena.

 

“Come on.”  Tooru urged Hajime out, the crowd soon following when they realized they couldn’t get a rise out of the man.  They stood off to the side while the crowd rushed past them, back onto their normal lives.  Hajime wanted to leave this place and never return, his heart felt unbearably heavy.

 

Hajime leaned against the wall, drawing a gloved hand over his face.  He felt suddenly very tired and homesick.  He wondered how little Tobio was doing with his studies, if he was still driving everyone mad by being an insufferable little know-it-all.  Hajime loved the little boy, loved even more how easy he could get under Tooru’s, his uncles, skin.  Hajime thought of the others, of his room that faced the sea, the big courtyard where he would rest after practice.

 

Something cracked in the distance and Hajime stood up straighter, tilting his head to the side to catch the sound again.  It came once more, then quicker a third time.  Hajime was walking towards it without having realized he was, Tooru close at his heels.

 

“Stop!”  Hajime shouted out before his mind had even processed what he was seeing.  A fat man stood above a man kneeling on the ground, blood dripping down his torn back from the cat o’ nine tails held in the heavyset man’s hand.

 

“ _ Who do you think you are _ ?”  The man asked, his accent harsh with the trader's tongue he used.  “ _ He cost me coin today, he was suppose to die.” _  The whip lashed down on the man’s bare back, cutting open more wounds.

 

Hajime didn’t lay the man flat for only one reason, Tooru’s hand on his shoulder stalled him.

 

“ _ How about a trade then?”   _ Tooru asked, his own voice smooth and practiced.  “ _ I will pay you for him.” _  The fat man leered at Tooru, glancing at both of them in their common clothes.

 

“ _ What do you want him for? _ ”  The man asked.

 

“ _ Does it matter?  I have the coin.” _  Tooru bartered with the man for several more minutes but Hajime didn’t pay much attention, couldn’t tear his eyes away from the bent over man on the ground.  The cuts on his face hadn’t been seen too and the blood smeared his left side and shoulder.  His back was torn up, but Hajime could see the raised skin of old scars littering the flesh.  It hadn’t been the first time he had been whipped.

 

“ _ You will wish him dead within a week too, you’ll see.  He is deaf and dumb. _ ”  The merchant walked away, his purse much fuller than it had been.  Hajime took careful steps towards the man, he was horrified he had paid for a slave but it couldn’t be helped.  Hajime could stand by and watch him be tortured no longer.

 

“You are safe now.”  Hajime said softly as he knelt before the man, stared into his soft brown eyes that were unfocused and downcast.  Hajime repeated the sentence in as many languages as he knew, which was a fair few thanks to Tooru but the man reacted to none of them.  “Did he say he had a name?”

 

“Nothing I’ll repeat.”  Tooru sighed as he looked over the battered man.  “They’ve probably drugged him since I can see no magic or chains on him.  Best we get him back to the inn so I can tend to his wounds.”  Tooru feigned annoyance to cover up the real concern.

 

Hajime moved closer, slowly helped the man to his feet and the three of them began the walk to the inn.

  
  
  
  


\-----------------

  
  
  
  


Hajime sat on the floor next to his bed, where the sleeping form of their new companion was laying on his stomach.  He hadn’t even flinched as Tooru and Hajime saw to his numerous wounds.  His eyes, the color of fresh soil after a rain, had focused entirely on Hajime as he gently cleaned the blood and grime off his tanned face.  Hajime wasn’t sure if he understood any of the words he said, or even if he could hear at all, but he kept his voice gentle and soft.  Or as soft as he could get his raspy tone to go.

 

“I’ll go get us food.”  Hajime offered but Tooru put up his hand to stop him.

 

“Better if I get it, he seems to trust you more so you should be here incase he wakes up.”  Hajime narrowed his eyes because he had known the prince for a long time, so he knew when the other man was lying.

 

“Speak the truth Oikawa.”  Hajime said gruffly, though still kept his voice low so as not to disturb the sleeping man.

 

“They hadn’t really wanted him in their inn and I doubt they’ll be willing to make us a third meal knowing who it’s for.”  Tooru finished cleaning the blood off his hands and used a cloth to dry them.  “Best if I go do the negotiating, knowing you, you’ll just start bashing heads together to get what you want.”  Tooru sniffed before leaving the room without letting Hajime argue further.

 

Hajime rubbed a hand down his face before looking over at the sleeping man.  His back was heavily bandaged, though Tooru’s healing abilities were fairly good they would do well to rest a full day before travelling once more so he didn’t reopen the wounds.

 

Dark brown eyes stared back at Hajime, who startled slightly before offering what he hoped was a soft smile.

 

“Do you have a name?”  Hajime asked in several languages but as before, the man either didn’t understand him or refused to answer.  Hajime pressed a hand against his chest.  “Hajime.”  He gave his given name instead of his family name, though few called him Hajime but for some reason it seemed important.  He held out a hand towards the man and raised his eyebrows, hoping for a response.

 

The man stared at his hand for a long moment before reaching his own down to touch the floor.  Hajime rubbed a one of the wooden planks beneath him.  Wood?  Floor?  Down?  None of them seemed to fit the solid man.

 

“Daichi?”  Hajime asked hesitantly.  The man didn’t smile but something warmed in those dark eyes.  “It’s nice to meet you Daichi, you’re safe now, I promise.”  Hajime would do whatever was within his power to make sure he kept that promise.

  
  
  
  


**The Present**

  
  
  
  


The tunic required for dinner with royals and diplomats was more intricate than it needed to be and usually Hajime hated it, but at that moment he kind of loved the creator of it.  It allowed Hajime the excuse to step close to Daichi, closer than he usually allowed himself because he was always aware of the others boundaries and never to cross them unless absolutely necessary.  Daichi had been forced enough to bare unwanted closeness and Hajime refused to add to that.

 

Yet he could step close because Daichi had invited it.  Hajime didn’t allow his knuckles to skim across the warm skin covering his torso, though he very much wanted to.  It had taken months for Daichi to trust Hajime enough to come near, he wouldn’t break that touch for a simple want.

 

Though the want burned deep inside of Hajime.  He had experienced attraction before, his travels had brought him to many different lands and each one had it’s beauties.  But none had made Hajime feel so much.

 

“There.”  Hajime stepped back to look over his handiwork.  He didn’t enjoy the too-fancy clothing they were required to wear for the huge party the King and Queen were throwing for their daughter, pregnant with her third child.  But the cut of the tunic looked good on Daichi’s frame, with his broad shoulders and trim waist.  The colors set off his sun-kissed skin, the freckles on his nose and cheek looked-  “Good.”  Hajime rubbed his nose, trying to toss away such thoughts.

 

“What if I misspeak?”  Daichi asked, voice a surprisingly deep rumble, his words carefully spoken.  The spoken language of the land was new to Daichi, though he had adopted to it quite easily.  It took longer than a year for a person to become fluent though, and sometimes he confused words or phrases.

 

The royal family adored Daichi already.  He had proven a valuable asset to them when he thwarted an assassination attempt on the Queen.  That had been nearly a year ago, shortly after they had rescued him from his angry master.  The King had offered Daichi a spot amongst the Royal Guard and Hajime’s heart had plummeted.  Instead Daichi had become another guard for Tooru and began to travel with them, looking for a home he was taken from when he was just five.

 

“You’ll do fine,” Hajime stopped himself from reaching out to physically reassure Daichi.  Their people were fairly physical, but he knew others were not raised the same.  Especially those brought up as Daichi had been, beaten and abused, afraid when a person lifted their hand it was to hit and not comfort as Hajime had grown up expecting.  “We’ll be by Tooru the whole time, so if you feel uncomfortable Tooru or I will take over the conversation.”

 

When they were at the castle Hajime usually did not have to keep such a close eye on his ward, there were soldiers everywhere to do that job but people from all over the land and several from distant lands were being brought in.  So Hajime and Daichi were there to protect the prince, just as other guards would watch over the rest of the royals.

 

Daichi nodded, clearly biting back anything else he wanted to say.  It had taken Hajime months until Daichi had trusted him enough to speak to him.  He had a tendency to put together several languages, filling in gaps he didn’t know with words from different lands.  It had been shocking at first, confusing, but Hajime loved the way Daichi spoke.

 

“You will not make the King angry because you used the wrong word Daichi.”  Hajime stepped closer but not too close.  Daichi stared down at the ground, the several hand spans separating them.  Daichi still had a hard time understand that small mistakes were easily forgiven, that he wouldn’t be beaten or denied food because he forgot to bow or spilled something on the floor.  “Say what you wish to say.”

 

“Might I have a-” Daichi made a vague gesture between them, either not knowing the word he wanted to use or being too embarrassed to use it.  “You touch others often when they are emotional, I was wondering why not me?”

 

“I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”  Hajime said through a tight throat.

 

“I wouldn’t mind if it was you doing it.”  Daichi spoke softly, eyes still trained on the ground but his back was straight and his shoulders held tight.  Hajime always admired how much strength he still had even after everything that had been done to him over so many years.  He knew it took courage to say what he had said.

 

Hajime took another step forward, carefully placing his hand on Daichi’s shoulder before giving it a careful squeeze.  Daichi looked up at him, smiled hesitantly but it was still so warm.  Hajime wasn’t sure where to go from there but he wanted more.  So he took another step towards Daichi, let his arms wrap around the other man, almost stopped breathing when Daichi leaned into the embrace.

 

Daichi’s tense shoulders relaxed as he breathed against Hajime’s neck.  Hajime closed his eyes and thought of how he was so completely and fully Daichi’s.  He could feel Daichi’s smile against his throat.

 

“I do not feel so alone like this.”  Daichi said as his hands slid up Hajime’s sides, holding onto the fabric of Hajime’s tunic loosely.

 

“You have me,” Hajime promised.  Daichi deserved so much more and Hajime would do everything in his power to make sure he had everything he desired, but until that moment all Hajime could do was offer up what he had at that moment.  Which was himself.  “You have me.”  Hajime repeated firmly.

**Author's Note:**

> Day 2: 15th August - Support
> 
> Magic/Fantasy AU
> 
> http://thatishogwash.tumblr.com/


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